Lost Step2 Monique POV
by Dreamer1985
Summary: I did Lost step and it was from Tevye's POV , this one is from Monique's POV. - Hope the formating comes across the way I wrote it - it seems to be having issues on my end.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own

LOST STEP2

Monique's POV

I do NOT own the rights to Fiddler on the Roof

**Authoress note: If you haven't read LOST STEP I suggest you do so as to have this story make sense. I never did catch a last name for Tevye, so I just gave him one, if it was actually mentioned please e-mail me and I'll change it.**

**Told in first person.**

My name is Dianna Monique Swan Sharanksy. I am sixty-five years old.

My once brownish -blonde hair has long since begun turning to snow. The

days are becoming shorter, and shorter. My daughter, Dianna Sharanksy

Baldwin has been after me to tell her my life's history, and she'd write it

down. So, I conceded, I'd write it myself, but my wrists have been acting

up. So, I guess here we go and she can title things , or keep track of them

anyway she wants.

Day 1:

As I sit here in Dianna's home in Washington I sigh. I miss Tevye, and our

ranch in Oregon. He was a Jew from Russia who first came to New York then to Oregon. Grr ..

My daughter insists I tell this from my birth on up, says that starting that way is getting ahead of myself.

So, I guess I need to 'back track', as she would say.

I was born June fifth eighteen ninety-four to an American military officer,

and his Bulgarian bride. He separated from the Navy and then took my

mother back to the providence of Kyostendil. They planned to live there

until the day they died.

However well made plans are they do not always materialize. My birth

was hard on my mother's body, and she only lived long enough to hold me

in her arms as she gave me my name. Unable to view the gorgeous apple,

and plum, orchards serviced by the Struma tributories without his wife

Joseph took me back to America.

The Struma tributories had harbored a polite, hard-working, and caring

people, but that had not mattered. He decided I'd be better off with his

parents in Montana. His mother, Annie Grey Swan, tried to talk him into

staying, but his heart was running too hard to do so. Unable to sit still he re-

enlisted in the Navy. I only saw him a handful of time growing up, and he

was killed in nineteen-o-four during a skirmish we were not given details

on.

Battles come and go, as do years, and so do the ages of little girls. I was

no different. Grandmother Swan did her best to show me love and

affection, and my grandfather did have a sense of humor, and was a caring

man, but not when it came to showing grief, or pain. Resentment for things

beyond my, and his, control nevertheless built up and blew after my husband

died and I was left with twins.

"Mother," my daughter interjects, "Aren't you getting ahead of yourself

again?"

"About what?"

"How did we go from your Dad dying to your first husband dying?"

"Life." She isn't impressed with my answer, so, I guess I'll answer her

inquiry.

After Dad died I pretty much closed down, until my husband came into

my life. Brandon was kind, gentle, and old. So, my grandparents claimed.

However, I hardly call nineteen old. Then again, I'd just turned fourteen

myself. We'd met at a town gathering and within a week were inseparable. A

year later I was Mrs. Harris, nine-months later I was a mother, and three

weeks after that Brandon drowned crossing a river and I was a widow.

Anyhow, shortly after that the feelings I've already mentioned surfaced

and my grandfather, and I, got into a huge massive fight. I yelled that I was

going to a local party being thrown by another rancher and that he wasn't

going to stop me. Storming out the door I left my children in the care of my

grandmother and headed south towards the other ranch.

Praise be, town wasn't far from my grandparents home. Because the

storm, which would have been the end of me, pushed me into a Mom and

Pop's diner instead. As it was my spirit was saved that night too.

"Here, have a drink." The small red head smiled as she convinced me to

sip on a cup of cocoa. The lady's name turned out to be Chava. She, and her

husband, had meant to go to Krakow, but unseen events had pushed them to

America, and then straight to the cold lands of Montana.

Chava's voice was as soft as her eyes. Her smile warm, and her manners

surprisingly comforting. All the resentment I'd ever harbored against my

father spilled out. The missed birthdays, holidays, and even cousins

weddings. The pain of losing Brandon was also poured out. Talking to her

put me back on the right path instead of the one I'd have been on.

Right path, or not, with the weather outside I could not make any kind of

departure home. Chava suggested I stay the night with them and her

husband, Fyedka concurred. Praise be, they had one of the few telephones in the area -as did my grandparents-

and Chava's husband informed them of my whereabouts. Needless to say, they were relieved to hear I was safe.

"Follow me." Her hand gently guided me into their one bedroom home,

just off the diner.

The kitchen was surprisingly efficient, with plenty of cupboard space.

Enough to satisfy my pickiest of aunts. The dining room had no shelves,

other than a matching hutch for the sturdy oak table the area cradles. The

front room sports a horrid looking green thing calling itself a couch, and

two chairs not worth sitting in. And the bedroom was gracious enough to

sport a queen sized bed covered with a purple, and white, comforter. I didn't

try to see into the room as it felt like an invasion of privacy would occur if

my feet crossed its threshold.

No pictures of people graced the walls, only flowers in vases. Chava

turned out to be Jewish, and Fyedka Catholic. _What a mix_, was all I could

think. But her faith explained the no picture thing. I had never aligned myself with one particular faith, but read my Bible on a regular basis. My belief of the hereafter tied me to Chava, but my acceptance of Christ as the Messiah tied me to Fyedka, hence, I was still on my own when it came to organized religion.

"Fyedka can drive you home tomorrow morning." Chava spoke to me as she pulled out a pillow and blanket for me to use.

Laying down I looked out the window and hoped the storm wouldn't hang around too long as I was eager to get back to my babies. BJ was a strong enough nurser I wasn't too worried about him, but his sister -Carrie= was weaker and it was she that concerned me the most. My children were the last thing I remembered thinking about before I feel asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own**

**LOST STEP2 **

**Monique's POV**

**I do NOT own the rights to Fiddler on the Roof**

**Authoress note: If you haven't read LOST STEP I suggest you do so as to have this story make sense. I never did catch a last name for Tevye, so I just gave him one, if it was actually mentioned please e-mail me and I'll change it.**

**Told in first person**

Day 2

Once I was back with my grandparents I turned to working for Fyedka and Chava. BJ true to my thinking easily took back to his mother, Carrie - did not. Seeing no other way to feed her I bought a bottle and got her to drinking from it; something my grandfather was not happy with , but what else was I supposed to do? Let her starve?

Chava had her own son, David, who was close to BJ's age and the two were 'at it' from day one. Her baby girl, Hannah, I hope - someday will play with my Carrie.

Whether it was playing in the space we'd create in their home, or in the corner of the little diner - those two were more like brothers than simple friends. Carrie preferred to stick by me, or with her Nanna.

My grandmother liked Chava and would often come to the diner to eat and chat when Grandpa was in town for business. I'd discuss every thing under the sun with her. Our children, her parents, my parents, her sisters, and our dreams. I knew her for six wonderful years - she even stood by me when I buried my Carrie when she was only three. Then my world seemed to crumble -again- influenza hit.

"Chava, you can't die." I wrung my hands. "Fyedka, Daniel and Hannah still need you.'

"I'm not afraid, Monique, but…" My friend pointed to her night stand, "…promise me you will take the box and letter in there to my father and sister, Tzeitel in New York."

"Chava, I can't do that, I have my son to take care of." I think surely the flu has affected her mind.

"Keep them then and when you are able find my family and give them the things." Her plea does not stop and I give my word.

I shut the door and turn to see Fyedka standing there. He sees what I am holding and tells me he overheard everything. The man insists he understands if I do not want to do as Chava has requested, but I tell him , no, I gave my word and my word is my bond. With that I leave their house thinking Chava will be gone by morning.

I do not have time to dwell on Chava long for when I get home I find my own son stricken and all I can think is _he's so young_. I set aside Chava's things in order to take care of him. My grandfather -who faces these things the same way my father did tells me there is nothing I can do and that I might as well take Chava's things back east. I am appalled he'd suggest I'd go while my son still stood a chance.

"Honey, if he lives he lives, if he dies he dies. Nothings going to change that." My grandfather than leaves me along with my son who - bless his heart- has heard every word spoken.

"Go Momma, keep your word." He does not let up even when I tell him he's more important - in fact he grows more insistent and extremely fidgety telling me it will be 'too late'.

"Too late? For what?" BJ does not say but only relaxes when I consent to leave him in the care of his grandparents. Fyedka is horrified when he finds me at the train station.

"You don't have to do this, Monique. It can wait." The man pleads with me to go home and wait.

"I can't." It's not something I can explain -and for years I will be criticized for not turning back by many who know me. When the train's conductor hollers for everyone to board I climb on - and don't look back.

Day 3

The train rolls on and I ignore any tall - or short- mountains, green fields and rivers that we may happen to pass by. I am too wrapped up with my thoughts of the box I hold, the letter and the funeral which necessitated this whole trip. And rather than pay attention to scenery, close my eyes and do the only thing I can do to keep my sanity - sleep.

Sleep is a brief reprieve and I wake up more times than I care to count. An older gentleman snores louder than my father's sick bellowing cow and I have the urge to stuff a sock into his mouth. Instead I close my eyes and ignore a man with black hair and beard looking at me as if he knows me. Managing to catch a few more sheep in my dreams I wake up just moments before I am to get off.

With the train station behind me I wonder the streets of a community I suspect would rather not have me there. I find the address easy enough, but no Tzeitel resides there. In fact none of Chava's family is there and I am bewildered. I do manage to track down one Rabbi Stern and he tells me the youngest two are out in the country side visiting friends, and that Model, Tzeitel, Tevye and their children are out in Oregon. He gives me their address but only because the aunt I know he thinks is Hodel.

I know having him think I know Hodel is wrong, but I couldn't stand the thought of having made the whole trip for nothing. I thank him and turn expecting to go back to the train station instead I find myself feeling a pull to wander around some more. Typical brown buildings meet my face and nothing stands out that shouts 'this is why you needed to meander around' - that is until I see it.

It is an orphanage and right now I suspect it's being used as a hospital too as I see nurses and doctors, besides the person taking care of the orphans. I can't say the woman impresses me much with her slurred speech showing she had just as much -if not more- problems with the bottle as she did the children. I would have left except I see three children who send chills through my bones.

_They have to be Hodel's no girl can fit Chava's description of her sister without being the woman's child. _The boy and other girl look like kin and - forgive me - I let the Miss Gayle make the same assumption as the Rabbi. However she insists on questioning me. Her inquiries make me want to laugh. She's definitely an alcoholic for the questions she asks of me are of a personal nature - ones that I can easily answer for all the talks I ever had with Chava held all the answers. Maybe, I should count that a blessing as there was no way on this green earth I could have produced papers. When I leave, Chava's children are with me.

I do not say much, but Daniel -the boy- is very observant and asks me about my silent tears. I tell him I am in mourning for a lost friend, but that is all. I do not feel like explaining about my son to such a young child. However, the child must be a worker of miracles for he gets me to 'spill the beans' and encourages me to have us get off in Montana to check in on my son. I meet him half-way and send a telegram from one station and pick up a reply from the next one.

"I'm sorry." Daniel wraps his innocent arms around me and lets me cry when I read my son has passed on. His siblings say nothing but lean their heads against my sides. Gathering myself I decide I will not do what I've done before and that is run -we stop and visit the grave in spite of my grandfather's fit.

"If I could have changed places with him I would have." Fyedka feels rotten about the whole deal as we stand at the station waiting for the train to come. I tell him not to worry and he whispers something to me and hands me a box. "Give it to Tzeitel." He does not show his sorrow over his own daughter dying without warning. In that way I think he is like my father. A good, kind-hearted man, but one who will not push his pain onto others.

I then get on the train -with Hodel's children- hoping not to get turned away once we get to Oregon.


	3. Chapter 3

_I do not own_

_LOST STEP2 _

_Monique's POV_

_I do NOT own the rights to Fiddler on the Roof_

_**Authoress note: Sutherlin is a real town, the people I name -as far as I know - are not.**_

_Day 4_

_Dianna sits in the chair attempting me to convince me we need to change this first person way of writing, that it is driving her crazy. I do not see what the big deal is, and tell her to deal with it. _

_Oregon was just as green and beautiful as all the stories I have ever heard and I wondered if the tall greens trees outside the window covered the whole state. The luxury of looking at the trees was given to me due to the fact the children were all asleep. If someone had asked me why the Jewish community hadn't taken them in the only thing I could have told them was whoever had brought them to America hadn't known how to find the family- besides the community had their hands full with others being sick. _

_How I dealt with traveling with three youngsters without going crazy I'll never know. Maybe, it was because in all reality Daniel, Miriam and Ruth had been well trained when it came to their behavior. If I needed something Daniel and his sisters helped out with out complaint. When we were low on food none of them complained. Only when the train stopped in Sutherlin._

_Sutherlin wasn't much of a town. Given enough time I was sure it would be quite the hopping community, but for now the place was pretty quiet when they stepped off the train. "May I be of service to you and your children?" A white haired gentleman walked up to where I stood._

"_Could you tell me where a Motel and Tzeitel Comzoil live?" The question was asked as polite as I knew how._

"_Comzoil? Never heard that name." The man is truly perplexed and I through out the name of Tevye Sharansky instantly the man's eyes open in recognition. "He lives nine miles out of town, that way." The man pointed to the west and gave Monique directions o how to get to the place._

_It is early in afternoon and I do not mind walking, but I forgot how much a child can slow you down -not to mention three- by mid afternoon I am very sorry a ride was turned down from the gentleman. Daniel looked at the sun and over at me._

"_We aren't supposed to break the Sabbath." It was something which had completely slipped my mind - Jews started their holy day on Friday evening and I kicked myself for forgetting. _

"_In that case all I can say is pray." There would be those who would accuse me of being rude replying like that, but there simply wasn't anything else to say. The children did so and I admit I was surprised the answer come so fast in the form of an older couple driving back from town._

_Fields of cows grazing meet my eye and my ears are assailed with questions by Hodel's children. Ones that showed me life that either life in Siberia held no cows for them -which I found hard to believe- or Hodel and moved to New York sooner than Chava had thought. Either way I explained about cattle guards. "They won't cross them because they have no depth perception. In other words their instincts tell them they will fall in."_

"_Are there any brave enough to cross?" Daniel asks with his wheels turning in his eyes. _

"_A few, but not many." We climb down when the couple stop at one very long driveway and tell us Mr. Sharansky's place is a mile down the road._

_We wave good-bye to the couple and begin the walk down the road that will take us to the home of their grandfather. It does not take long for Ruth to tire and the years will prove she will never be one blessed with good health. Therefore I take mercy on the poor girl and hold her as we continue down the road. Miriam walks ahead but still keeps fairly close, however, it is Daniel I keep on having to remind to stay close. _

"_Daniel." I speak firmly once we get to a second cattle guard. "You're grandfather is not expecting us and I think the least you could do is to stick close by me until we see how your warm of a reception you all are going to get." Praise be the boy -reluctantly- agrees though his eyes still wonder to the open fields begging him to disobey me._

_The sound of chickens and geese fill my ear and a large garden comes into sight. A two story ranch house lays just beyond the garden and a blue barn off to our right sits on top of a hill. No-one is in sight. Just as I begin to wonder if anyone is home a tall thin woman steps out onto the porch. It has to be Tzeitel for her long narrow face fit's the description Chava gave to me the day we worked in her garden. One look at the children and the woman lets out a wail I'd never heard in all my born days -except by an old Indian woman who's husband had been shot by a corrupt law official. The loud caterwaul gets two men flying out the barn down and barreling down the road leading to the house. The older man's reaction is the same as Tzeitel and I instantly know it is Tevye; Chava's father. The other man has a bird-like face a nose just as my friend had described therefore, I knew it was Motel._

_Motel's reaction was strange. Whereas I'd expected him to howl and rip his shirt as his wife and father-n-law had done he stood eerily quiet. That was not a good sign, but I kept my eyes on Chava's sister until the lamenting had finished._

"_Where's Perchik and Hodel?" Tzeitel finally asks and I explain they died over in Sibera and the children were found in an oprhange in New York._

"_That explains their silence." Tevye - though terribly upset at the death of a daughter- was clearly relieved she'd not purposely turned her back on them. I don't have to ask if they will take them in as Hodel's sister is already calling for her own children to show their cousins to their rooms._

"_Thanks for bringing them." Motel's voice is distant and tells me I should leave. _

"_I…" looking Tzeitel I ignore the coldness of Motel, and the eyes of Tevye.. "actually went to New York to deliver this to you." I dare not say Chava's name as I open the bag out of concern they may not give me a chance to give them the items. _

"_What…" Tzeitel's eyes grow wide at the sight of the brown box, but take it nonetheless. I also hand her what Fyedka gave me, but I do not say his name._

"_And she asked me to give you this." I manage to hand Tevye the envelope she gave me. I stand still not sure if I should stay, or go, when Tzeitel's voice shocks me by asking me why Chava quit writing to her._

"_She didn't quit…" lights go on, but I am not going there and I simply go on and inform her that all her letters had been returned as of one year ago._

"_You told me she quit writing." Tzeitel's eyes turn to a glare towards Motel. This is one fight I do not wish to be a part of and I turn to go. _

_Bless him, or curse him - depending on your point of view- Daniel spoke up. "It's almost the Sabbath. Surely, we can't ask a guest to travel at such a time." I go to open my mouth to assure them it was no big deal to me, that my own Sabbath didn't start until Sunday, but Daniel then tells them of what it cost me to get them there on top of something I will not repeat and an item he could have only gotten by overhearing Fyedka and I at the station. Tzeitel's eyes widen, Tevye's give a soft sympathetic look that one can only give when they have buried someone they love themselves. I find my voice._

"_It's no big deal, I can leave." I say it mainly because of the feelings I am sensing reeling off of Motel._

"_No, you stay." Tevye speaks up in an accent I have only heard when talking to Fyedka or Chava. "My grandson is right. Spend the Sabbath here." His daughter's smile show me she concurs, Motel? I think he dares not open his mouth out of fear of what his father-n-law would say - not to mention a wife who is still glaring at him over the letter._

_Day five_

_The Sabbath comes and goes and yet I am not gone. Why? Because during supper Tevye suggests his daughter needs an extra set of hands with the children, and he with the cows and sheep. He says that Motel is better suited for the tailor's life than one inside a barn. I did not think Motel appreciated that comment, but his wife chuckled. So, I think Tzeitel is on her father's side._

"_That is a p not a q. See this one points to the left." I then put my finger on the letter p. Miriam tried school, but it freaked her out so bad that Tzeitel convinced her father , and husband, to let me have a go at it. The young girl is extremely bright and easily picks things up._

"_I think that girl would live in a book if you let her." I tell Tzeitel. Fortunately -for me - her husband and father are not around._

"_She's much more like Chava in that case than her own mother." Her voice is soft and we talk a little of her sister._

"_You know, Tzeitel, she may have married outside her faith, but -if it helps any- Chava did not ever practice Catholicism." I am rewarded by a wide smile._

"_Are you sure?" Chava's sister needs to know desperately I am telling the truth._

"_Oh, I'm sure." I then tell her a Catholic priest had come to house attempting to save my soul along with her sister's._

"_And what happened?" Tzeitel asked just as Tevye came around the house, but neither one of us are aware of him being there, nor that he has heard the whole bit about Chava and Catholicism._

"_I told him not to worry so much that I'd be more than happy to save a seat for him." Tzeitel's eyes widen and it's then her father bursts into laughter. I do not know whether, or not, to be embarrassed that my tongue would have actually spoken to a priest like that- even if I wasn't Catholic. Tevye keeps chuckling as he heads to the barn and his daughter begins to say something , but changes her mind._

"_The children will be in soon, let's go get lunch ready." Is all she says and I follow her in._

_It does not take me long to figure out Motel and Tzeitel - at least not Motel- are not happy out west and really would have preferred to stay back east. Therefore I begin to consider asking Chava's sister what the whole deal really is, but hold off as I can hear the two arguing over the letter I'd brought with me._

"_It's been two months, Motel, give it a rest." I hear Tzeitel say one fall day as the door the upstairs is open, "What you did was wrong, now live with it." I say nothing as she comes down and we begin to cook, but finally I speak up._

"_Tzeitel, I meant no harm when I brought those children here, nor the things Chava gave to me. If my being here is going to cause problems between you and Motel then - maybe- I should leave."_

"_No." I heard the word from Tzeitel being echoed by her father who is standing at the archway leading into the kitchen. Both tell me I am not the one with a problem, that I am doing nothing wrong as I am even teaching Miriam to read using only their own Torah, and that if Motel has a problem than he is the one that needs to work it out._

_Tevye gathers things from the side room and pauses as he is going back through. We both look at each other and I think I see a look in the corner of his eye - one I have not seen since… I stop myself, bite m lower lip, and turn back to the sink not daring to even consider what had entered into my own mind. He must have figured the same thing for he goes outside without another word._

_The children are in a constant state of movement. Her older children, and Daniel, come in from school while the younger ones continue to play outback or out in the field you can see from the kitchen window. It's their sounds that keep me here the most. Not even Motel's aloofness takes that joy away._

_The weekend is like one long Sabbath at the Sharansky's. I do the main chores on Saturday as it is not a holy day to me, but on Sunday I am the one that is not asked to do physical work. Both days holy books are read either by myself, Motel, or Tzeitel, I never see Tevye crack a book and I begin to wonder __I know the Jews are a highly educated people, but is this one who slipped through the cracks? Or has he been so busy with life he's simply got out of the habit of reading himself?_ It is a question I do not ask nor one I dwell on - though later I wish I would have. Each Sunday I lay down and think_ Here's to another week _as I drift off to sleep.

My grandparents have asked that I return to Montana, no more like demanded it. I hold the letter that has come, but do not read it out loud - even when asked by Tzeitel about it.

"It's nothing." I say when she asks what's in the letter. No, I only stand up and go inside.

Once again I do not know Tevye was within hearing range, nor that he'd gone into the side room when I entered the house, and I certainly did not realize he sees me as I toss the letter into in to the fireplace with tears threatening to stream down my face. Instead I hurry back outside keeping the words _How ignorant can one's own grandparents be_ to myself.

I may have hurried out the door, but Tevye had not. No, he rushed to pull the letter out of the fire. He never would tell me how much had been burned and how much he saved, no, years later he would only tell me it added another cord of rope around the string he'd already pulled and took him one step closer to falling off the Fiddler's roof. A comment I have only recently begun to fully comprehend.

Dianna sets the pen down as I am tired and I turn in for the night with memories of Tevye face clearer than they have been in a long time. Tomorrow I will talk some more to my daughter.


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own

LOST STEP2

Monique's POV

I do NOT own the rights to Fiddler on the Roof

**Authoress note: Sutherlin is a real town, the people I name -as far as I know - are not. **

Day 6

Over the years people have criticized us for being with each other based only on my age, but they did not seem to understand that good, or bad, mentally I was years ahead of myself; at the very least I felt older than my physical age. The decision to stay was not taken lightly. I knew Motel wasn't likely to change his attitude towards me, nor was I naïve enough to think I could talk openly of what I'd seen in Tevye's eyes, so, instead I focused on teaching Miriam and doing my chores while I weighed my options. Finally, I decided staying wouldn't be bad as long as I went to town more and intermingled with other people -Tevye's family accepted me going into town without question.

"Hi, Monique." Tom, a young man far closer to my age than that of Tevye waved to me from the train station.

"Nice to see you still have your legs." He laughed as I referred to a logging accident that could have easily cost him the ability to walk.

Dinner, dances, and town socials were often attended with Tom by my side; even Gene - a 'neighbor' down the road. But after all was said and done I find myself leaving Tevye's place less and less. I told myself it was my obligations to the children, to my job, and such. Sometimes the truth is hard to face - no matter how mature one is.

I don't know when things changed -other than the one look I'd acknowledged Chava's father had held in his eye- but my steps became lighter anytime I had to work in the barn, or help him with the sheep. But it wasn't like I avoided my other obligations, or that I no longer had friends coming over so Motel had no reason to suggest it was his father-n-law who was the cause of my whistling so much.

In fact, even though my trips to town were less regular - my visitors were quite frequent. The guests didn't come around the barn though -not while I was working, nor were they there when Tevye would stand and say, or sing, the Sabbath prayer. My eyes gluing themselves on him during those times did not raise suspicion with Motel as all of us had our eyes on the man. It helped that my curtains were down - so to speak. No, my whistling, and light steps were attributed to nothing more than me getting more comfortable with my surroundings and Oregon in general.

_Someday you may very well know how I felt._ Chava's words were whispering in the back of my mind. _Don 't get me wrong, your first husband was a nice guy, but you two lacked something, admit it._ Her words had infuriated me at the time, but she was right. Brandon hadn't been a vicious man by any means, but -as much as I hate to admit it- had he lived we'd probably have - emotionally -drifted apart. He was far too carefree for my taste. It just wasn't something I had wanted to admit at the time. I think his death, along with our children's, that sobered -and matured - me in ways nothing else could have.

When those words began to peck in the corners of my brain's ear I pushed them off stag -until one fall day in the barn.

The day started out normal enough. Breakfast, milking the cows and back down to get the older children off to school and such. No, it wasn't until noon that things between Tevye and I took a visible turn. The sheep meant for their own table were not ever docked, but the ones headed to market for their neighbors were. But it wasn't the docking I helped with at that particular moment it was the gathering of the wool he'd gotten off the older sheep.

"Da da da…" Tevye began to hum after I'd piled yet another coat of wool onto a growing pile in the corner of the barn. He put up the shears and began t dance as he hummed. I watched fascinated with how well the man moved. The desire to dance jumped into my own being and I did my best to mimic what he was doing.

"Come …" He stuck out his hand, "…let me show you how it's done."

There are those that say he never should have stuck out his hand, nor should I have taken it. But he did and I did that is all there is to it. He led me in the dance and , yes, I let the curtains over my eyes fly up. Did he see it? Of course, the man may not have been the richest one around money-wise, but he was no idiot. Tevye said nothing only continued to hum as we danced. When we were done I saw his own curtains fly up and he lifted a hand to the side of my face.

Did he want to kiss me with his hand on my face? Yes, it was written clearly in his eyes. Did I want him to? Only an idiot would think otherwise, but he didn't. Why? Because of the footsteps we both heard coming towards the barn. When the door opened and Motel stepped inside he found me piling wool and Tevye with another sheep in hand and the shearers in his other.

I don't remember what they talked about, or how long, I just remember Tevye spouting off with 'The good book says…' and I lost it - probably due to nerves over the kiss that surely would have come had not Motel entered the picture.

"It says no such thing!" My raised voice got both men's attention. "I've read your Torah inside, outside and probably even upside down. It says nothing of the sort. And for the record, I'm tired of hearing you spout stuff when you don't even crack open the book!" With that I stormed out the door leaving two mouths to be picked up from the floor.

Day 7

The scene in the barn was the turning point for Tevye as far as the Torah went. He began taking turns in the reading of it. His reading was slow and labored, but nonetheless the man did it. Many times I'd find myself helping him at night with any difficult words he came across. Things began - quietly- to pick themselves up between us. He'd steal a peck on the check, or forehead while I was in the barn. A brushing of his hand against mine as I walked by, and a voice which hummed soft love songs as he did his chores -ones only done when I was present and Motel was nowhere in sight.

"Stupid calf!" I growled at Copper who refuse to budge, "I'm going to turn you into roast beef." I threatened a few other things and heard Tevye laugh as he came around the barn.

"Think she'll listen to you?" His eyes did not stop laughing.

"She'd be better off listening to me, she's already ignored her mother." I kept pulling at the calf's rope trying to get her to budge.

"Yes, she has." Tevye spoke and I found him between myself and the calf, "Maybe, she'd be better off listening to those around her." His mouth was talking about the calf, his eyes were not. Before I could say anything I found his hand on the back of my neck and his mouth on mine.

It wasn't the quick peck either. The calf could have wandered off and I'd not have known , or someone could have walked up and I'd not have heard. Tevye was the only one I was aware of. When he lifted his head he whispered again, "maybe, she should." With that he turned back around the corner.

I could say it was all him. I could claim there had been no return kiss, but it all would be a lie. He may have started it, but trust me I gave it back. The calf must have gotten bored of standing -or disgusted at the mushiness she'd seen because she nudged me trying to get to the pasture. I let her go with a 'good riddance' you ornery cow'. Lifting my hand to my mouth I closed my eyes and sighed - I could still feel his lips on mine.

Nothing happened due to the fact Miriam and Ruth began to complain of aches and pains as their fever rose. The chills that hit them, along with sore throats made me groan. It was influenza I just knew it. Sure enough when the doctor came out he quarantined the sick ones in their rooms while Tzeitel and I took turns nursing them. Miriam wasn't too bad, sure she was uncomfortable, but it was Ruth that scared me the most.

"She has to live." I gave her more medicine as I listened to her cough worsen. No one could get me to leave her side - except Tevye.

"You can't do anymore than what you're doing. You need rest , you're getting ill yourself." He coaxed me into my bed and had Tzeitel take over.

Tevye -when he wasn't doing his chores - sat by my bed making sure I didn't attempt to get out as my own body took on a chill. I thought I heard words like _what right does she have to be here, she needs to go back to Montana_ and such. It was always Motel who was griping and Tevye and Tzeitel telling him to cork it. Finally, the fever broke and I found myself helping around the house once more. Only I was sickened when Ruth relapsed and we ended up burying her on top of the hill behind the ranch house.

The wind had turned chilly and fall was moving out when Tevye fell ill. It was my turn to sit by his side, give him medicine and -at times pretend to be Goldie. I had to - nothing could convince him at first his wife was actually passed on. I'd already talked to Tzeitel by then and found out her mother had passed away on the ship they'd sailed on.

_We could have taken another boat - one with a better reputation- but Motel insisted Captain Morgan's boat was safe enough. _She then confessed when her father had his chance of getting all that land and big home he'd always wanted she'd used a guilt trip on Motel to get him to move out west. _I was wrong to do it, he belongs back east, but we can't bring ourselves to leave Poppa._ By this time the two had ironed that part out and had even smoothed out the effects his lie about Chava had caused, but this? No one dealt well with Tevye falling ill especially not me.

"You can't die. I've already buried a husband, two children, a father, and your granddaughter. I can't see you go six feet under yet." Tears began to flow, ones that should have been shed long before then. Tzeitel and Motel had heard the words about my family and figured the tears were really meant for them -not Tevye. That thinking was partially correct - I did need to shed those tears, but it wasn't just for them I cried, however, I was too emotionally drained to tell them otherwise and I let my tears wet his blanket as I lay my head on his chest.

I don't know how long I lay there before Tzeitel convinced me to lay down on the couch in the front room. Motel -for once- said no critical remark and asked me about my family. Why I opened up to him about BJ I'll never know, but I did. I poured anything I felt for Tevye onto my son. It wasn't that I didn't ache for my boy and I as telling Motel the truth about him, but I was no idiot either. I wanted Tevye to live for reasons you couldn't have gotten me to confess to anyone but Chava's father that night.


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own

LOST STEP2

Monique's POV

I do NOT own the rights to Fiddler on the Roof

**Authoress note: Sutherlin is a real town, the people I name -as far as I know - are not. **

Day 8

The chickens squawk as I feed them and gather eggs. My mind is on Tevye who is now sitting up in bed. I know he has heard my whisperings in his ear for just that morning when I went in to see him awake he took my hand, caressed it and kissed the back of it. I heard footsteps and we turned our heads. No one was there, so, I do not know who saw the act, but Tevye refused to let my hand go when I suggested maybe I should leave the room.

"_Sit." He insists on me sitting on the edge of the bed as he tells me all about his family, of Russia and having to leave their home. We even talk about Goldie._

"_She sounds wonderful." I glance down as I stroke the back of his hand. "I really need to go do chores." He chuckles and lets me get to work. _

The memory gives me hope that - maybe- there's a chance for me to love again. Hurrying inside I find Tevye up and dressed. His smile warms me up without him having to touch me and he knows it. I ask him if he is sure he is well enough to work in the barn and tell him the sky is clouding up.

"I'll be fine." He leans down just far enough to kiss my forehead before heading out the door.

The rain does indeed come down in torrents and all the children stay inside. It feels good to see Miriam up and about. She too had a relapse, but unlike her sister we did not end up burying her. Tzeitel comes in and asks me to take lunch up to her father and Motel -who surprisingly volunteered to help out in the barn today. I suspect he wants me kept away from his father-n-law, but am not sure.

"Sure." I take the bags and head up to the barn in the pouring rain.

I love the rain, green grass and trees that yell 'we have enough water', but I hate mud. What it does to shoes and the bottom of long dresses is annoying. I expect to give Tevye and Motel their lunches and go straight back to the house only I hear shouting as I close the distance from myself and the barn.

Through the barn door comes words like Fyedka and Chava, repeat of history and other things I'm sure Motel never meant for my ears. Words that cut me to the core. I am so lost in the words spoken until the sound of the barn door opens.

"Monique!" Motel gasps and sincere concern leaps into Tevye's eyes. He can see the rain has power to cover my tears, but not the wound in my eyes.

I turn and run. I can not face them -I can not face him. My foot slips in the mud but I catch myself on the fence near the house and keep running. From the sounds of it Tevye is attempting to catch up with me. Instead I bolt inside the house and into the bathroom as Tzeitel's voice asks what happened.

"I partially fell, fence saved me. Please, get me a change of clothes." I only open the door when Tzeitel says she has a dress for me.

Motel comes in and stands outside the door to try and convince me to come out as do Tevye and his daughter. I do not answer. In fact I stay inside until I hear their footsteps leave the kitchen -even then I make a bee-line for my room upstairs. No one sees me until I come down for supper.

The prayer might as well of not been said for as much as I hear, and the food tastes like dust to me. I do not hear anything as my body feels like stone. Things would have remained in that state had I not heard Motel mutter something I will not repeat. All I know is it's the straw the breaks the camel's back.

"I will be gone by morning, no matter the weather." I practically jump to my feet and am upstairs before anyone can move.

I hear knocking - it's Motel. I ignore him. Tzeitel comes next and I pretend I don't hear her. A door shuts and I watch Tevye go up to the barn. My tears begin to fall for I'd learned to love again -only it was aimed at a man who found he could not love me back. I will leave quietly - before anyone gets up.

Day 9

The night is still and the stars are out. Slipping quietly out of bed I pick up a traveling bag and my shoes as I never took off the dress Tzeitel gave me. I slip out leaving Miriam sound asleep. Thankfully, when the girl came to bed she left the door open. One less noise to mess with. Walking stealthily down the stairs I am relieved when they do not creak as Teyve's room is right under ours.

Setting the bag on the counter I glance up at the clock - it says 1:45. Tevye won't be up for close to another three hours. So, I figure my plan to slip out unnoticed will work just fine. Taking a piece of cheese out of the ice-box I wrap a chunk in cloth and put it in my bag. I then deal with some bread. Tears which I shed the previous night begin to flow, but I manage to work quietly. My sobs are controlled still I shake when I hear footsteps I know all too well come into the kitchen.

"Aren't you even going to say good-bye?" I close my eyes, it is Tevye.

"I didn't want to disturb everyone." I manage to speak though my voice chokes up on the last word. He says nothing but his feet carry him right next to me.

"Honest? Is that way you are leaving at this insane hour?" His tone is not critical and I can tell he does not buy my line.

"I don't belong here. You don't… you can't.…" I bite my tongue and try to focus on putting the bread up only to find his hand on mine.

"I don't and can't what?" His voice grows firm and he gets me turned towards him -though I keep my head down. "Monique.." his voice grows gentle, but remains firm. "I asked you a question."

"You can't love me." There it's blurted out and all hope of leaving quietly has flown out the window.

"Oh, Monique." I find my chin lifted and Tevye's mouth is kissing my tears away. "I love you, heaven help us both, I love you." He tells me I gave Chava back to him, tells me he is seeing the Torah in a whole new light because of me.

"But I'm not Jewish, and I have looked into converting Tevye, but I can't do it." I don't even bother trying to hide the pain I my voice.

"One more day, give me one more day." He whispers and I feel his breath against my cheek.

"What good will that do? Just make it harder to leave." My fingers clutch at his striped robe.

"It will give me time to talk to Motel. If he still thinks the same way when I am done and you want to go…" He pulls me close, "I promise you I will take you to the train station myself."

The moon peeks out from under a lone cloud as if to hear my answer. "Okay, but I'm afraid. I know I shouldn't be, but I am." I whisper.

Tevye braces both sides of my face and lowers his mouth to touch mine. "You'll be okay, I promise." He speaks softly and kisses me as he did when he stood between the calf and myself. This time, however, I reach my arms up and place them around his neck.

"I think." He pulls just far enough away to keep us from going any further, "You'd best get back to bed." I go still nervous, a bit afraid, but holding on to tight to the feeling of being held and kissed by Tevye.


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own**

**LOST STEP2 **

**Monique's POV**

**I do NOT own the rights to Fiddler on the Roof**

**Authoress note: Sutherlin is a real town, the people I name -as far as I know - are not. Also, while it is difficult -so I've been told -to carry a child with only half a uterus it has been done (my 'sister' did it), hence the birth of Tevye and Monique's daughter.**

Day 10

The sun rises and slides its rays into my room - almost reluctantly- wakes me up. The first picture I see is Tevye embracing me and I am eager to get up, however, the second one makes me slink under the covers. It is of Motel. He has not ever given any verbal argument to me about my presence there and sometimes I wish he had -maybe- Tevye, and I, would have stopped and thought before we were so emotionally wrapped up in one another.

Motel's footsteps are heard, but they stop before they get to the kitchen and I pretend I didn't hear them in order to give me time in gathering my courage to face someone who had been told the previous night I would be gone. Tevye's footsteps are harder to ignore for they make me want to feel his embrace again. Tzeitel' and the children's are heard rustling around in the kitchen.

My mind rolls back to one of the first days I met Chava. She was always reading, or singing, it seemed. My friend told me of a day her sisters and she were hanging up clothes and told me what the topic was. Remembering that topic I start to sing softly, "Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match, find me a find, catch me a catch, night after night in the dark I'm alone, so make me a match of my own." I can't help but give a soft smile.

Sure, I hadn't had a some old busy-body who went around matching people up, or coming to my house yakking off topic so much they'd have left without telling me the real reason for their visit until I reminded them, but…the thought comes that my matchmaker was a young dying boy who begged me to go keep my word before it was too late.

Too late for what? To keep my promise. I think he knew he was dying and that I'd get so wrapped up in his death that unless I was already in the process of keeping it I'd never deliver on it. The box and the letter would have been neglected until it was too late. A rooster crowing makes me groan - I can not ignore the fact morning is right in front of me and I get out of bed.

I brush my hair which has grown longer since being with Tevye's family and I pile it into a loose bun with strands hanging down the sides of m face. Slipping on a simple gray dress I then put m shoes back on. Once that is done -and the bed is made- I head downstairs.

The door at the bottom of the stairs is closed and I take a deep breath before opening up. If I'd expected yelling - or chastisements- for still being there I am surprised when the children continue to eat as if nothing unusual is going on and Tzeitel looks at me with a grin filling her whole face? Tevye's daughter tilts her head towards the front room and only says 'Poppa is waiting for you'. I am convinced I am losing it.

If I thought I was losing it then what met my eyes told me I was already gone. It wasn't the site of the old couches looking new -I'd done that work along with Tzeitel just a few days before. And it wasn't the mahogany hutch or matching table that had been brought in from the barn- though it was a bit of a surprise- nor was it seeing Motel's sewing machines in the side room seen through glass windows. No, it wasn't any of that. It was Tevye sitting on the couch, his legs crossed and papers -I figured must be Chava's letter- spread across his lap along with Motel sitting on the matching couch with a smile on his face? Yup, I'd lost it.

"Come…" Once again Tevye beckoned me near him and - yet again- I complied. Once I was sitting by his side the man put his arm across my shoulders and pulled me close, " think Motel has something to say." I turned to face Motel who's face had taken on the more serious look I was used to -minus the coldness it had held before.

"Poppa's right. My coldness towards you was not based on any religious beliefs -if they had I'd have been able to make loud vocal protests against you being here, but…" his eyes lowered in regret, "I …kept myself distant because the sight of you handing over the boxes and letters to Tzeitel and Tevye was a very blunt reminder of my lies to my wife. I let it affect the way I treated you, or should I say I let it keep me from coming forward on the fact I'd been far more conservative than I'd ever cared to confess being." He stopped and found his grin again as he shook his head, "I also have to say you are the strangest Christian I have ever met." I must have looked a bit confused because Tevye chuckled.

"What he means my dear," Tevye let his other hand slide up and down my arm, "Most tell us we are going burn and rot forever and that we will never see any kind of heaven. You seem to think otherwise."

"Ya, well, that one heaven and one hell never has set right with me. I think it's just plain arrogance speaking." Both men chuckle and Motel asks about the letter.

"What about it?" I don't bother hiding my confusion, "It's not like I ever read it."

"Poppa told me about what you said to the Catholic priest, but Chava mentions your back bone in regards to a local preacher. We'd like to know what she is talking about." Motel speaks and it is clear Tevye agrees. Both men chuckle when I cross my arms and let out a 'aw, that guy was such a massive hypocrite, far worse than the other fellow ever thought of being. At least with the priest he was honestly living the way he believed."

"So? What happened?" Tzeitel asked as she stepped into the room wiping her hands on a piece of cloth.

"He started harping on…" I looked at Tevye not sure I can mention Fyedka's name, he slowly nods his head and tells me not to stop. "Anyhow, he was harping on Fyedka something fierce said Catholics weren't Christians - even though they accept Jesus as the Christ and the Messiah- told Chava she was going to burn and rot forever and then turned on me." I did not hide my exasperation, "And I was reading the Bible every day! Just wasn't attending his particular meetings. So…I told him off." I found myself embarrassed at what my temper had caused me to say -though I have not ever been able to find it in me to apologize for it.

"And exactly what did you say?" Motel had definitely decided not to stand back anymore and wasn't going to let up until I answered the question outright.

"Told him …" I glanced at Tevye who only prodded me with his finger to go on. "…that if the Lord could raise a righteous people up in the middle of the wilderness, if he could help the lay Catholic survive the Spanish Inquisition, and help the group nick-named the Mormons irrigate the Salt Lake Valley than Chava, Fyedka and I would be just fine in hell with them and he'd better bring the hot dogs, chocolate, and marsh- mellows or none of us would let him in." Once again Tzeitel gasps, but the men roar as they hold their sides. I think Tevye is laughing worse than he did in the yard.

"I think …" Motel finds his breath first, "…you probably shouldn't have said that."

"Maybe, she shouldn't have…" Tevye gasps as he finally gets some air, "But it's funny!" He doesn't get an argument there. The one holding my heart as well as my hand then speaks softly. "Chava mentions being responsible for the death of your daughter, but doesn't say how…" His voice trails off and I found myself shocked that Chava would still hold herself responsible.

"Oh, Tevye, it was accident, truly it was." I explain we'd been riding for the fun of it and that Carrie had been riding with Chava. "Everything went fine and I got down from my horse when we arrived home. Carrie begged for more and -since we were so close to my grandfather's home I saw nothing wrong it." Slowly I lift my hand and admit I remember nothing after that except for waking up in the house with the doctor leaning over me. "They said the horses spooked, but didn't say what by. My horse -I was told kicked me and that Chava's horse -don't ask me how I haven't the foggiest how not only threw them off but landed on Carrie. It as nothing short of a miracle its weight missed your daughter." I went to explain the Chava was reluctant to come into the room where I lay and Fyedka told me why. "I told her not to blame herself. Honest I did." I do not tell them what the doctor says, but keeping my mouth shut did not good as Tevye whispers - but not so low as to leave Motel out -that he knows of my partial hysterectomy.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Motel leans forward. _Man, I think I liked this guy better when he kept his mouth shut and was cold_. It's not really what I think, but I find it difficult to talk.

"Monique?" Tevye tapped me yet again.

"I just didn't see why I should. It's not like it was going to change anything." Tevye sighed, started to say something and then decided against it.

The children could be heard going outside in order to either leave for school, or do early morning chores. Even the littlest ones had something to do. No one spoke for a few minutes, but then Tevye spoke up once again.

"Since I made Motel get up and talk to me at three in the morning , and since the furniture you like so much is in the house, there is only one question left unanswered." He tilts my head as I ask him what that was. "When is our wedding day?"

I let out an excited yelp that could have raised the dead as I threw my arms around Tevye's neck and practically jump into his lap - poor man- it was a miracle he didn't lose his hearing, or fall off the couch. The children came running in wanting to know what the scream was all about. Tevye chuckled and -the turkey- told them "Nothing, I just told her she was going to be a grandmother." The younger children were confused, but all of us adults laughed.

Day 11

I grow weary of talking so much about my past, but my daughter insists I tell 'just a bit' more- says it will help wrap things up -especially concerning her. So, I lean back in my chair not even bothering to hide the ache over Tevye's passing which occurred eight years ago.

That day on the couch we discussed not only the wedding date, but what his family back east would think. I hated the idea of him being disowned, but assured me that wasn't likely to be the case. "It's not likely you'll have any children by me and that would be the main concern for my family."

"But what if I do? I mean I have heard of it happening." I put my own hands on his beard and my eyes showed I sincerely do not want him kicked out of his own family.

"Then it happens." Motel shocks me by speaking those words. "Monique…" Tevye gets me to face his son-n-law who is not slipping back into silence. "My father-n-law is right, it's the children we would be most concerned about, but the odds are against you on that. If it happens then it's a power far greater than any of us have causing it. Though I highly suggest you two discuss what you'd do should that occur, an do it now." He no longer looks like the shy tailor Tzeitel told me courted her, but a full grown man who knows full well what he wants to say and is stepping up to bat to do. It is then Tevye speaks up.

"If that particular miracle shows up -and it's a boy- I would insist on him being raised Jewish, but …" He smiles down at me. "…if it is a girl you can decide _as long as -_ Tevye puts emphasis on those three small words - you have decided clearly on what you believe, promise me not to align with another faith unless you are able to give it your _full_ support." What he asks is fair enough and I give him my promise.

Our wedding is small and his family -as Motel said- accepts me based on what he has told them of the odds of me ever having a child. Few are able to travel, but all send letters. That night Motel takes his family to a friend's house allowing Tevye and I to be by ourselves for our wedding night.

"Monique…" Tevye whispers as he begins to lay me down. What he says I could not tell you for he does not speak English. Every now and then I catch my name only my mind clouds and all I can think of is his touch. "Monique…"Once again Tevye is saying my name only this time he is leaning on his side laying his hand on the covers which are laying over me. "…you are beautiful."

"I did not disappoint you?" The question is asked because -as good as my first husband treated me during our marriage - he'd complained about our wedding night.

"No, you did not." Tevye traces his fingers along my mouth and closes the gap. "Indeed you did not." With that he once again pushes the world away.

In time Motel, Tzeitel and the children went back east where they belonged. With me by Tevye's side the concern of something happening to him without someone around had lessened and Motel could no longer stomach being out west. I was almost forty by the time I showed up expecting. Poor Tevye, I think he about had heart failure, you have to remember the differences in our ages was quite vast. The man was nearing sixty-seven when told. When Dianna was born he only shook his head and said he should have known it was going to be another girl.

Dianna never felt neglected though, Tevye took her everywhere with him. That girl was her Daddy's shadow and he loved it. So -maybe- it was a blessing she and I found a faith we could align ourselves to a hundred percent after his death and not before. Tevye was a wonderful husband, my best friend, and a terrific lover, but I don't think he could have handled our conversions to another faith. In his hearts of heart I think he always hoped I'd align myself with Judaism. What had went around may have come back around, but I can't say I'm sorry…even if the fiddler had lost a step.


End file.
